When a former Knicks dancer weds a SpikeTV producer you know the harmonics of the Universe are correctly tuned. Come, explore the New York Times wedding announcements with resident Gawker wedding expert Phyllis Nefler.

You've gotta hand it to the New York Times wedding section: even when they come at you with a bride who was a former Knicks City Dancer, they manage to slip in that oh by the way, she graduated from Harvard. Summa cum laude.

And she's now in upper management, as the the entertainment manager for the across-the-river New Jersey Nets ("she oversees the rehearsals and on-court performances of more than 70 dancers, gymnasts and other entertainers.")

Yesterday she married Terence Minogue, a Spike TV creative director. (Hey, at last it wasn't the editor of Maxim, or Dave Zinczenko!) The pair first met at a bar in the East Village, and reunited later that year when he made a surprise appearance at her office:

In late December of that year, Ms. Garris, dressed in a Mrs. Claus outfit, was performing during a Knicks-Celtics game at Madison Square Garden. At halftime, she made her way to an area of the concourse to take part in a charity event and was surprised to see Mr. Minogue standing there.

"I had butterflies in my stomach," she said. "I was fixated on talking to him."

Mr. Minogue had felt much the same way and had gone to the Garden hoping to see Ms. Garris more than his beloved Celtics. "I could tell she was sort of mortified to see me because she was in that Mrs. Claus outfit, but she looked adorable," he said. "I approached cautiously because I had no idea if she had any interest in me."

(In the video, which is reminiscent of the scene in Meet The Parents where Greg Focker sees all the photos of his girlfriend and Owen Thomas OMG Wilson, I meant WILSON! in increasingly more exotic situations, Minogue is more explicit about his feelings on the costume.)

Ah, the Mrs. Claus costumes. I know them well. Whatever, props to this couple, because the Knicks City Dancers are freaking legit, performing Beyonce routines in hotpants and heels, enduring the pervy leering of Isiah Thomas and the festival of incompetence of the New York Knicks organization all the while. These ladies are A-OK in my book. These ladies are martyrs.

You know who else are martyrs? All the poor anonymous souls who spent life and limb supporting the Clintonian Empire only to be snubbed for the most important social event involving the scions of rich and mostly corrupt families since Ivanka wed Jared like two months ago.

"I'm good enough to borrow a plane from, but not good enough to be invited to the wedding?" complained one Clinton friend, who remembered the times he handed over his jet and his pilot to take Bill Clinton around the country but had not landed a coveted invitation to Chelsea Clinton's nuptials.

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Others are straight chill about next week's Clintgasm, not acting like such douchey babies:

They include Senator Bill Nelson of Florida, who has known Mr. Clinton since his White House days, and his daughter Nan Ellen Nelson, who got to know Ms. Clinton when they were teenagers. Ms. Nelson is getting married this weekend, and the two are exchanging wedding gifts.

After "three children from his two marriages and other relationships, and all the hookups that go with life on the road," Collen met his bride, Helen Simmons, who had begun training for a role in a ticket services company. Simmons was not too familiar with the band, describing herself as more of a Michael Jackson fan. (Props to writer Shannon Donnelly for not shoehorning in a "she was more Phil Collins than Phil Collen" reference as Lois Smith Brady totally would have.)

Collen fits the archetype of the aging rocker perfectly, right down to the vegan and alcohol-free lifestyle, the collaboration with Taylor Swift, the nostalgia, and the New Age-Old World philosophies:

Mr. Collen, a follower of Sant Mat, an Eastern philosophy, said his attraction to Ms. Simmons was instant and undeniable. "Sant Mat teaches that we are all connected by the same energy," he said. "It was like we had known each other for years, but had to wait until that time to meet." He added, "You don't question what was meant to be."

Their communication is effortless, Mr. Collen said. "I haven't talked to anybody that easily since Steve." He was referring to the Def Leppard guitarist Steve Clark, who died in 1991 from alcoholism and drug addiction and who had been Mr. Collen's other half when they were known as the Terror Twins.

I'm down with anything when it involves meeting on something called the "Sparkle Lounge tour." Pour some etc etc.

One bride this weekend is Margaux Laskey, a name I recognized because she recently started writing wedding announcements herself. Her article is curiously devoid of this small nugget, instead referring to her more official job at the Times: "the supervisor of the clerical staff," and going on to pimp "Size Ate: One Woman's Search for the Perfect Fit," an "autobiographical one-woman play about eating disorders and body image, which she performs at colleges."

Laskey is from Leland, Michigan (which, by the way, is one of the most beautiful places in the US, and also: the cherry chicken salad sandwich with a side of cheese wookies from Sisson's Main Street Specialties is like, the reason the midwest exists) and her father will beat me up if I say anything mean: he is a "former professional football player who was a linebacker for the Buffalo Bills, Oakland Raiders, Baltimore Colts and Denver Broncos."

Her husband has the most inexplicably random bio ever to grace the pages of Vows:

The bridegroom, 38, also works for The Times as a news assistant for the Sunday Business section. He is also a freelance drummer in New York. He plays for Apache Stone, a rock band led by Michael Lombardi, an actor on the FX television series "Rescue Me." The bridegroom graduated from the University of Miami.

I'm surprised they didn't slip in the time and date of the Rescue Me season premiere, you know?

Finally, I'd like to declare a moratorium on the disturbing trend (which, to put it in Times parlance, is "small but growing") (ew, pun not intended) of the "up against the wall" photo. (See here for another instance.) I mean, I'm sure Richa Sapra and Kaushal Mehta are a dignified and lovely couple, but if I were her coworkers at Citi I'd feel a little uncomfortable next time I saw her, like I'd caught her in a private moment with her man, I DON'T KNOW, just no more of this please!

• The couple both graduated from Princeton (+7), he summa cum laude (+1), and earned MBA's from Harvard (+7): +15
• The priest is so Episcopal that his name is John Smith: +2
• The bride's father retired as the director of the Princeton University Press and her mother is the author of several books, including "Boca Rococo: How Addison Mizner Invented Florida's Gold Coast": +2
• The groom's parents are "of Southampton": +1
• The groom's mother works at Stevenson's Toys and Games and his father, a former headmaster in Oyster Bay, is now a realtor: +2

• The announcement is written by Margaux Laskey, meaning this couple has another person, who herself is bigtime enough to be featured in Vows, doing work on their behalf: +2
• The wedding was performed by an Episcopal priest: +1
• "The couple met at Harvard, where both graduated cum laude…": +9
• "…each also has a master's in art history from the Courtauld Institute of Art in London": +2
• The bride is pursuing a Ph. D in the history of art and architecture from Harvard: +2
• The groom is pursuing a Ph. D in art history at Yale: +2
• "The bridegroom's mother, who is retired, was a kindergarten teacher at the Maret School, a private school in Washington": +1
• "His father is the treasurer of the National Geographic Society in Washington": +1
• "Ms. Gray first noticed Mr. Platts in an undergraduate course on Dante": +1
• Oh fuck it, I'm just quoting the entire last paragraph:

For their first date, they went to the Fogg Museum at Harvard, where Mr. Platts greeted Ms. Gray with a red rose and had arranged a special viewing of "Goldsmith's Designs," a drawing by Michelangelo.